


The Name's McClain, Lance McClain

by firefliesaway



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Character-centric, Dark, F/F, F/M, Female Pronouns for Pidge | Katie Holt, Gen, Hunk is a bamf, Lance is a Spy, M/M, Magic, Multi, Mystery, Pidge is tired of BS, Plz help Keith, Slow Burn, Space Mom Allura (Voltron), Space Uncle Coran (Voltron), klance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2018-03-07
Packaged: 2018-12-05 11:51:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11577522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/firefliesaway/pseuds/firefliesaway
Summary: After Shiro's disappearance, Pidge decides to take action.  This begins with a questionable decision of faking Lance's death as he infiltrates the Galra military. Admittedly, Pidge slightly underestimated how his disappearance would effect already low moral. She also didn't expect Keith to not only find out, but follow Lance there leaving them with only 2 working lions. Meanwhile Lance tries his best to become James Bond but instead gets involved in a political plot that's more complicated than he and Pidge imagined.On the bright-side, he's sending  back some fantastic insider information. Pidge just needs to get it to Allura without admitting that she, you know, launched Lance into a coup de tat without any backup.





	1. Chapter 1

_“Colonialism is not a machine capable of thinking, a body endowed with reason. It is naked violence and only gives in when confronted with greater violence” - Franz Fanon, Wretched of the Earth_

Team Voltron was not particularly good at strategy without Shiro, which Pidge knew to be a fact. There were a few other facts she knew, like Keith was surprisingly not very good at reconnaissance (as they had discovered at the Galra Communication Hub), Hunk was without a doubt the best cook this side of the universe, and it would be a long time before Allura could stop grieving Shiro. In the time the Black Paladin had disappeared any resemblance of an organized rebellion on Voltron’s part had disappeared. She guessed that’s what war was like.

An eye for an eye, a Queen piece for a Queen piece, and one general for another.

They had thrown the Galra Empire into disarray but in the process, themselves as well. In the game of war though there was little time for mourning because, the Galra with its ever-expanding resources could soldier on without sleep Zarkon or no Zarkon. It had more of a bureaucracy than they thought and that was their mistake. This was also a fact.

Their mistakes always started with misinformation that even with Hunk’s caution they could not avoid. So naturally, Pidge came up with a plan. She was not the Black Paladin focused on getting the team back on the tracks, not the Blue or Yellow who were supposed to hold the weight of the team on their backs, and she was most certainly not the Red Paladin, all impulse and instinct. The Green Paladin was mind before matter, and if that meant pushing aside her own grieving, well that was even better. So over a day she gathered these facts and arranged and rearranged them until she came up with something that resembled a strategy and by the next day, she would set that plan into action.

 

* * *

 

Lance finds Pidge early in the morning slumped over a bowl of goo and surrounded by papers.  This is not so unusual. He walks around the Green Paladin quietly, chin held pensively in his hand. Ever so slowly, he squats down and presses on her nose with his index finger. It was not as squishy as he thought it would be but there is no reaction from the smaller paladin. He resorted to yelling loudly in one of her ears.

 “Hey. _Heeeeey_. Pidge. HEY, did you drown in your goop?”

 The effect is immediate, the gremlin yelps, pulls her bayard out of nowhere, and jabs him sharply in the ribs.

 Lance yelps and curls over, “Why is it always me?” He whines pitifully looking up from the ground in hope of sympathy.

 “What the quiznak, Lance?”

 “Are you using that word properly?

“Yes! You’re the one who always gets it wrong!”

Lance looks pensive for a moment, “Oh. Huh, yeah I guess you’re right.” He smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of his neck. “But seriously, half your face is covered in goo.”

Pidge rubs off the remainder of the green sludge indignantly. “What do you want Lance?’

“To spend time with my favorite little green gremlin?”

Pidge makes a move to get up.

Lance shakes his head vigorously, “I was joking! Joking -- geez.” He has at least the decency to look slightly apologetic, but it was clear he didn’t regret his words in the slightest. “Look -- Pidge, its like 12 and we’re still the only ones up. And you know how lonely I get buddy...so can you please keep your little old buddy Lance company,” his eyes widen, pleading, “Juuust for a few more ticks.”

Pidge sighs and pushes her glasses up her nose, “I guess I wanted to talk to you anyways…”

Lance, who looks genuinely shocked, is for once speechless. Pidge crosses her hands in front of her like some sort of miniature Bond villain and Lance feels very acutely like he’s in the principal’s office after having acted out in class.

“I want to talk about your grades back in the academy --”

“Hold up, hold up, hold up,” interjects Lance, “I’m gonna stop you right there because one,” he shoves a finger in her face, “You’re not my mom or teacher? Or Iverson? Or whatever…” he shakes his head and narrows his eyes and holds up a second finger, “and _two_ how do you even know --” Lance pauses mid sentence and pouts, crossing his arms. “Oh riiight, I forgot, you’re Pidge: Space Invader of Personal Information and Private Property.”

“Look, do you want to talk or not?” Pidge exclaims, annoyed she’s been interrupted again. Not that she expected anything less.

Lance sighs and makes a zipping motion with his fingers.

Pidge adjusts her glasses primly and starts again, “So back in the academy, I know you did really really terribly at math and physics-” Lance looks like he was going to interrupt and Pidge shoves her hand over his mouth before he can say anything. “But you excelled when it came to psychology, communication and writing,” Pidge smiles wryly, “And I never told you, but sometimes you got even higher scores than me, Hunk, and Keith.”

One thing Pidge knew about Lance: despite his bravado, he didn’t brag when he _actually_ did something great. Both of them were younger siblings, constantly sprinting to keep up with their siblings, used to being bossed around, and (a little bit) spoiled. But there was a strange quiet humbleness about Lance that reminded Pidge of Matt. Maybe that was why she always found herself gravitating towards him in times like these, and as Pidge expected, Lance remained quiet at the revelation, but allowed his face to settle into a satisfied grin.

“Well, it’s nice to be finally recognized for my genius,” replies Lance, preening, “but why now?” He winks and exaggeratedly wiggles his eyebrows clownishly.

“Because I have a plan.”

“A plan? For what? You finally gonna hook me up with some hot space chicks?”

“In a way.”

Lance looks dumbfounded and Pidge can see the gears turning in his head as he tries to process what he just said. Usually she chastised his on his constant objectification of anything that had the ability to reproduce and appealed to him aesthetically.

He sputters and Pidge wonders if she could use this strategy in the future.

“You’re going to pretend to die, become a Galra soldier, and spy for Voltron.”

Lance bursts out laughing and wipes a couple of tears from his eyes, “Aw Pidge, you always know how to cheer up a ship, and here I thought - ”

“I’m not joking Lance.”

This gives him a pause, “Allura didn’t make this plan, did she?”

Pidge nods, “This is just between you and me.”

“And you think this’ll work?”

“I don’t know. But we have to _try_ Lance,” Lance still isn’t saying anything, so Pidge charges ahead before he can refuse. “Look, we have _no_ idea if Zarkon is actually dead, _no_ idea what the Galra are planning, and _no_ idea where Shiro is. We can’t keep rushing into battle with such a big information disparity! That’s why we‘ve barely made an impact on the rebellions, we’re trying to start the fall of the empire in _weeks_ when it should take _years_ and the only reason this last battle worked was because the Blade of Marmora has been working for centuries! And we still just rushed into it and look what happened! Shiro is dead. Dead, Lance, because none of us can make a real plan.” Pidge stops when she realizes she’s started yelling and she catches sight of Lance’s face. She sees someone in the reflection of Lance’s eyes, stiffens, and very slowly turns towards the doorway.

Keith’s eyes are hollow and black his face unreadable as he looks at the two paladins in front of him. A book of poetry that Pidge had found for him a few weeks ago is clutched so tightly in his hands that his knuckles are white.

“Keith – she didn’t mean that,” starts Lance cautiously. “We don’t know if Shiro is…”

“Shiro isn’t dead.”  Keith looks at Pidge coolly, throws the book on the ground, and stomps out of the kitchen.

They sit in silence for a few seconds. Lance stands slowly, picks up the book, and blows softly on the cover. He still isn’t facing Pidge when his shoulders slump as the seconds pass. “Tell me what you want me to do.  I’m in.”

 

* * *

 

In the beginning, Lance had allowed himself to dream. Sometimes he would talk to Hunk about them (never Keith though) and even let Coran chime in. Once he’d talk to both of them in the kitchen, his long legs cheerfully swinging against the counter as Hunk showed Coran how to bake his accidental-scaltrite lenses.  It had been one of the last happier moments before Shiro disappeared and Allura found out Keith’s heritage.

 “...And they’ll have the biggest parade for us! Man, there’ll be balloons, and confetti, and big drums, and dancing…”

 “What is “balloons?”” asked Coran curiously looking up.

 “Oh! They’re like these big floating balls that we fill with helium!” Said Hunk excitedly. “We used to suck the helium out and our voices would be super high pitched for a bit”

 Coran looked amused by this and stroked his mustache thoughtfully. “We will have to buy them then! We can fill up the whole castle with them as a memorial to your Terran heritage!”

 Given his excitement, Lance and Hunk decided not to tell him that balloons eventually deflated. Lance piped up again, “And that’s not even half of it guys! We’ll be heroes and everyone will recognize us!” He slid off the counter top and swaggered over to Hunk, wrapping his arm around the larger Paladin’s shoulders. “There’ll be kids who run up to you all like, “What was it like to fight next to the universe’s sharpest sharpshooter?”” He mimed gunshots and went to lean next to Coran, “And then they’ll see you and they’ll say something like, “Woah! It’s Coran the great! The Guardian of the Princess and mentor of all the greatest Paladins!” Coran stood up straighter, eyes twinkling, and  stroked his mustache.

“Hmm...that does remind me of how things were…” he paused for a few seconds, “before. Everyone knew of the Paladins of old! And we would always be invited to different planets! With the most wonderful feasts!” He sighs longingly, “What I would do for a goblet of nunvill right now…”

 Hunk and Lance both made a face.  

 “And they’ll all ask Pidge, the brightest Paladin this side of the universe to solve their problems! They’ll call her Pidge the Wise,” added Lance.

 “ _Pidge_ the Wise?” snorted Hunk.

 “I think it has a certain dignity to it,” Lance pouted somewhat, there had always been someone who was ‘the wise’ in all the fantasy books and stories his brothers and sisters read. “Anyways - who _knows_ what they’ll say when they see Shiro! They’d be speechless, they’d run to you and me Hunk -’tell us how you rescued the Black paladin!’ and ‘What is he like?’ and ‘Tell us your adventures with him when you were young!’ because they’d be so shy!” Lance nodded at his prophecy solemnly.  

 “And how about Keith?” Hunk smirked and wiggled his eyebrows.

 Lance looked non-plussed, “Well when  the kids play, “Voltron” games they’ll all fight to play me, _of course,_ and I guess whichever kid likes sticks and stabbing people the most gets to be Keith.”

 “What if they ask you about all those times Keith saved your ass?”

 Lance gaped, not having noticed when the Red Paladin entered as Coran and Hunk descended into laughter. He puffed up his chest, “Ha! Like that would ever happened! I’m the one who came out of a coma to save…”

 “...And a few days later was tied to a tree by a alien that seduced you in like 5 minutes?” Keith smirked.

 Lance sputtered and crossed his arms. “You’re just jealous Keith-y _boy_ that the ladies are all drawn to my natural charisma!”

 Coran twirled his mustache pensively, “well, civilians have always been curious to hear about the Blue and Red Paladin’s friendship…”

 Keith and Lance turned around quickly, both agape.

 “What do you mean Coran?” Clearly the original reason they had been in the kitchen was long forgotten.

 Sensing he had a captive audience (for once) Coran straightened a little, “Well, those two Paladin’s _always_ have been at odds just because of their natures, but their teamwork has also always been legendary…”

 “Ohhhh,” Hunk looked thoughtful and twiddled his fingers, “I guess it’s the whole fire and water thing…”

 “Which, by the way, water always beats fire!” Interjected Lance.

 “Not true!” Growled Keith pushing lance gently.

 “Yep! 10/10 times water puts out a fire!”

 “Not if it’s an oil fire!”

 “You finally admit your hair is the oily, mullet?”

 Shortly after the kitchen quickly descended into chaos and Coran and Hunk edged out before they were forced to choose sides.

 

* * *

 

Lance appreciates the way Hunk smells, in a bro-y manly way, of course. He doesn't know how he does it, but even in Space Hunk still smells the same, sandalwood, citrus, and hint of something else, burnt plastic maybe?  Unappealing in theory, but to Lance it just smells like his best friend. Hunk to his credit waits patiently as Lance clings around his neck wordlessly, in one of the longest Lance-hugs he has experienced. Hunk is after all, the best hugger on team Voltron, and given the mood the last few weeks on the ship, he was okay sharing his Hunk-therapy with anyone who requested it.

Lance finally lets go, and smiles sheepishly.

 "You okay buddy?" Asks Hunk with another string pat on the other paladin's back, "You don't know something I don't, do you?"

Lance laughs. "Nah dude, I just had a nightmare, yanno? With Shiro missing, I dunno, I just think more about how I don't want to lose any of you guys." This is partially true.

Hunk nods. Ever since he moved next door to Lance when they were 10 he and Lance had been best friends. They had been some of the only immigrants in the neighborhood, so naturally the two clung together right at he beginning. They both loved the beach, they both loved adventure...and besides, Lance needed someone to watch over his hyperactive ass and Hunk had needed someone to pull him out of his comfort zone. They went together like rice and beans.

"Yeah," Hunk frowns. "I don't know what we're going to do if this keeps up...we have to run a diplomatic mission at some point -and you know how I hate those, and like the suits are so hot, and what if they aliens don't speak English? What if they think I'm ugly? What if..."

"Breath Hunk."

"Oh right." Hunk scratches the back of his neck. "Anyways I don't think any of us are ready for that level of socialization yet." He pauses. "Why are you in your armor?"

Lance shrugs, "Blue has been getting restless, I'm gonna fly her around a bit and get it out of her system."

"That makes sense."

Lance grins, "Of  _course_ it does buddy. Nothing like a little bit of Lance to calm down the ladies."

Hunk shoves Lance lightly on the shoulder, "Gross. See ya dude."

Lance responds with a cheery smile and as his back fades into the long hallway, Hunk finds himself wishing that he had talked to him longer or gave another hug; but he's Hunk, and he's always paranoid so he shrugs it off and decides to track down Pidge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first work ever, so I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! Of course, tell me your thoughts, I'm still trying to get their individual thoughts and voices down.
> 
> This fic will get progressively darker, as a warning, but think it will probably stay at its current rating.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pidge breaks the news to team Voltron while Lance arrives on planet with a bagful of new Pidge-quality spy-gear...some that he's none too happy about.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like switching tenses so we can have the action (Lance's story) moving ahead real fast while also receiving some world building and updates from the rest of Paladins. So usually Lance's parts are gonna be present-tense and almost all the Paladin's sections are gonna be past-tense. So just a heads up so ya'll don't get too confused.
> 
> Also: If you don't like needles, then there's a bit of that in here, but just normal needle things, like shots <3
> 
> Find me on tumblr @fireflysaway

When they had discovered the empty cockpit of the Black Lion, nothing had made sense for days. They wandered through the the halls of the castle as aimlessly as they wandered throughout space. It was finally the Blade of Mamora and Coran who put a stop to it, or tried. They had found a diplomatic mission in the Eridanus system with some recently liberated species on the southern side of the planet. They were gearing up to take on the Galra Empire to the north, but above their tropical island the temperature was low, along with their morale.

“So all you’re saying is that we all go down, do a quick fly by, wine and dine, and then back up to space? Heh, sounds like my kind of day.” Lance’s excited tone didn’t at all match his face or body as he leaned against the wall, arms crossed and eyes shadowed.

“Well…” Allura hesitated, “Yes.”

Pidge adjusted her glasses, brow furrowed in concern, “Is that all?”

Allura looked guiltily downwards. “They would like you all to appear as Voltron.”

“Well...you told them we couldn’t right?” Hunk’s nails were bitten down to the quick.

“No, I did not.”

Hunk gaped. “But we can’t!You’ve gotta tell them! Not since Shiro’s gone…”

“Don’t talk about him like that!” Everyone stiffened. “Don’t talk about him like it’s his fault we can’t form Voltron!”

“Keith, no one said anything about it being anyone’s fault…” Pidge’s eyes were narrowed a grim expression on her face. To everyone’s surprise, it was Pidge who had taken the news of Shiro’s disappearance the best. “It you keep exploding at the rest of us, then even if Shiro _does_ come back we still won’t be able to form Voltron because of your bad attitude!”

It was quiet enough to hear the mice rustling in Allura’s skirts.  They had all inevitably seen Pidge upset, but this was the first time she had yelled at Keith specifically.  

Keith bit his lip, clenching and unclenching his fists.

“Remember what you said to me?” Her voice was softer now, apologetic, “You can’t put the life of one person above the lives of millions of others. You were right, Keith.”

This had been the wrong thing to say apparently,  because within seconds Keith -who would never touch a hair on Pidge’s head, who talked with her about cryptology for hours, who spoiled her every chance he could get - lunged for the Green Paladin before anyone fully understood what was happening.

Lance was faster.

There was a groan as Keith’s elbow made contact with Lance’s forehead and the spell was broken. Hunk rushed forward, holding Keith’s arms behind his back. It wasn’t necessary, the moment he’d made contact Keith had wilted, and very slowly, a horrified expression crawled over his face.

“I-...I’m sorry.” He gasped. Hunk let go cautiously and Keith crumpled to his knees. “I didn’t mean to...I d-didn’t…” His hands covered his mouth, eyes traveling face-to-face wildly, a caged tiger. “Pidge…”

Pidge looked equally horrified from behind Lance. They were the arms of Voltron, Keith and Pidge always worked together, had felt an invisible string of companionship between them, not once did she calculate this as a possible pathway in their partnership. “I’msosorry,” she gasped and without another word, sprinted out of the room, almost slipping as she turned the corner sharply.

“Pidge, wait!” Hunk made to run after the smaller paladin, Allura’s strong hand on his shoulder stopped him.

“Let her go Hunk.” She sent a glance towards Coran, “I think I underestimated the time it would take for us _all_ to get back on our feet.”

Keith said nothing and just stared up at Lance. The Blue Paladin was still breathing hard and holding onto the wall for support, his eyes locked onto Keith. Something passed between the two of them, deeper than the jokes and faux-rivalry and it was to Keith’s astonishment when he realized that somewhere along the line their roles had switched.

Even as everyone continued to talk to in hushed tones, Keith’s eyes remained locked onto Lance’s forehead. A dark red line slashed across his hairline, a smooth line of blood cradling Lance’s round cheeks, as it dripped down onto the floor silently.

* * *

 Keith thinks of Lance’s blood when Pidge tells him what happened.

* * *

Blue loves the water and Lance loves Blue, so naturally the two of them are having a great time as they approach their destination. He is awash in the emotions that his Lion keeps sending him.  There are familiar ones like him and Hunk defending the mer people and Lance learning how to use the sonic cannon, but there’s also memories he’s never seen before and he is quite positive they belong to Blue herself or one of the past paladins. Blue leaping into the water to save a limp body in her strong maw, bursting through thick ice in the sunrise, multi-colored fish brushing and nibbling on his toes. Lance is delighted by the imagery.  Blue wasn’t supposed to be here, the only reason he had flown her here was because she had insisted that if he left her behind she’d tell all the other lions too and everyone knew that Yellow and Red couldn’t keep a secret. Thus, against his and Pidge’s best judgement, here she was.  Now though, alone in the depth of a dark lake he’s glad she came, the deep rumble of her purr puts him at ease. Now they both were missing their family and it had taken them only a week to get to this planet...who knew how it would feel as time went on.

To himself, Lance wonders if it is possible to be homesick for two places all at once.

Blue picks up on Lance melancholy and sends him a picture of a sea turtle, somehow, it helps. Or at least, either Blue’s (everlasting) innocence or her inability to read a situation helps.

“It’s just you and me now girl.”

He remembers glancing at the Castle one last time before blue shot off. Blue had sent an mournful thrum as she caught sight of it too; stark white as bone surrounded by the soft velvet of space. Her home, and she was leaving it within months of returning. His lips had been clenched in a thin line, remembering his hurried goodbye to Hunk. And Keith...Keith hadn’t opened his door.

Lance hopes Red will forgive him if Keith is upset. Neither he nor Blue have fully accepted that if he can’t find Shiro they might no longer be partners.

“Hey girl, putting on Pidge’s invisibility thing-y now. Now entering Oclionovian atmosphere.”

Blue harrumphs, she knows all this. But with so many years of training on earth, the old habit puts Lance at ease to speak with constant updates into his vibration-transfer cranium protection device, so she lets him do it anyways. Besides, she likes it whenever he talks.

“Brace for aquatic impact.” The ice covering the water is a mile deep but Lance maneuvers his lion to one of the large cracks, if he does it just right, no one will know that a huge mechanical lion has taken residency in the oceans of the frozen planet. He bites his lip, “They don’t call me the tailor for nothing.” With the surface getting closer and closer, right before impact, Lance can’t help but close his eyes.

Blue just barely fits through the cracks of ice and the two of them speed to the depths of the ocean; the bubbles at the surface are the only indication that they were ever even there.

* * *

 

Keith had found Pidge’s book of poetry a few hours after Lance’s five minute knocking spree. He had regretted how he had spoken to her a few days ago, and a mere 30 minutes after storming out of the kitchen, Keith had gone back to apologize and pick up the book. Pidge, Lance and the book had been gone already.  Keith had decided not to bother them any further, not if Pidge had taken back the book. There was something to be said for symbolism between friends, wasn’t there? Keith didn’t think Pidge thought about communicating through metaphors, but given the mood between them the past few weeks, Keith wouldn’t be surprised if Pidge started trying to talk to him only in Morse Code. He probably deserved it, to be quite honest. Keith didn’t know Morse Code, but he had already decided that he liked it just as much as he liked commander Iverson.

So he had been surprised when he found the Poetry book leaning against the door and assumed that Pidge had returned it in a gesture of goodwill, that is until he saw the note inside.

 

> _Hey man,_
> 
> _So you kinda rushed out in a hurry, so I’m guessing you couldn’t overcome the need to obsessively practice and that’s why you rudely scooted away from mine and Pidge’s perfectly civil conversation. The addict’s life is hard man :( Join an anger management support group or something or something - JK BECAUSE WE’RE IN SPACE AND THOSE DON’T EXIST. SUCKS TO BE KEITH._
> 
> _Anyways, we figured you came to get some poems described so after you left, we went to Pidge-y’s study and translated the remainder for you. Well, Pidge translated and I wrote the translations because Pidge’s handwriting SUCKS._
> 
> _Lance_

Keith almost smiled in spite of himself.  He walked over to Lance’s room (because no one who cared so much about skin care could be awake at this time of night) and knocked.

No answer. But Lance always wore those headphones to bed, so Keith knocked again, louder and more urgently this time. Impatient, Keith tapped his foot. If Lance had been so insistent on talking to Keith earlier that day then why wasn’t he opening his door? He huffed and folded his arms.

“Lance, it’s _me_ , open your -”

“Paladins please report to deck!” Allura’s voice echoed through the castle. Now Lance would _have_ to open the door.

But the door didn’t open. Concerned, Keith pried open the sliding metal door. The air was stale aside from the herbal smell emanating from the bathroom. No one there. Something just felt... wrong there was no other way to describe it. Keith turned quickly and ran towards the main deck.

When he arrived, he saw only the faces of Allura, Hunk, Coran, and Pidge.

“Where’s Lance?”

* * *

Lance is in the Blue’s cockpit, breathing hard, as they finally reach the bottom of the ocean shelf. “We did it, beautiful. In _one piece,_ holy crow!” His head collapses onto the control panel as the adrenaline rush fades.

Blue makes an indignant sound. _Of course_ they made it because she had _the best_ pilot, and even if he wasn’t, she still wouldn’t have allowed her Paladin to crash her into some ice.

He pulls out a satchel from under his seat, filled with tools and the various gadgets that Pidge had been working on god-knows-how-long:

 5 Rover 2.0s (“ _I’ve modified them all. They have invisibility cloaking.  Just put them in various places and they’ll record everything they hear, you just have to collect them once a week, download the data, and send it to me.”)_

A voice changer (“ _You just have to stick it on your throat...well, Adam’s Apple I guess. Anyways, bleeding will only be minor, I designed it after I thought about ticks.” “Bleeding? It’s leg-thingys hook into me? What...and a tick..like for only for a few seconds?” “No, the bug genius.” “Eeeewww I hate bugs!” “Too bad dude.”)_

A small, innocuous silver rectangle (“ _A hearing amplifier, Galra have an excellent sense of hearing, and you need  hear even better. You can hear through walls with these babies” “This isn’t like the voice thing-y is it?” “Um…”)_

A Poison Dart Pen ( _“Niiiiice, like a real spy!” “There’s only like 5 shots in there so don’t get too excited. Also, don’t get the buttons confused -the other side is a laser.” “How’d you get all this to fit into a pen, you freaky mad scientist? Wait...do Galra even use pens?”_ )

A small pouch to put under his clothes ( _“For my skin care products, aww Pidge! You do have heart!” “No you idiot, what galra soldier has a beauty regime? You can put your bayard in there.”)_

10 small black cubes (“ _Stick these suckers under any computer and I’ll be able to hack in.”)_

Infrared Contacts ( _“I didn’t actually make these. Found them in one of the storage rooms.” “If I go blind it’s your fault.”_ )

And finally, a glass vial filled with a strange shimmering liquid and a needle. This is what scares Lance the most as a regards it cautiously. He decides to save it for last. Blue is curious as he pulls out the Voice Changer first, grimacing as the strange cybernetic bug legs wiggle as they sense the heat of his hands.  “Well,” Lance makes another face, “Here goes nothing.” Lance almost chokes as he feels the device attach to his neck with a small prick, the Olkari technology that Pidge had dabbled with seemed to wind around his throat tightly for a moment before receding and sinking almost imperceptibly into the skin. Disgusted Lance gags, but he’s surprised when the noise comes out gravelly and deep. “I guess it _does_ work Blue.” he croaks, not fully believing that it’s his own voice that he hears.

The hearing amplifiers work in a very similar way that sends shivers down his spine and Lance decides that he is not going to let Pidge even _think_ of any eye modifiers. He’ll take sketchy old contacts over weird bug computers near his eyes any day. He puts said contacts in the small satchel under his clothes for safe-keeping until nightfall.

Lance let’s his eyes close for a few minutes, listening as the water swirled around him and blue, the distant clicks of some marine alien, he thinks of home on a rainy day and how would go down to the beach and just _listen._ Blue sends a bemused rumble, she wants to make sure he’d okay. Lance settles a reassuring palm on the controls.

Pidge had said the formula in the vial would last for a month, tops. So Lance has a month to get in and out with the information he needs, of course, they still hadn’t decided what _sort_ of information he’s looking for. But that isn’t what worries Lance, what worries Lance the most is how the formula that Pidge had managed to buy will react with his human biology, a question that Pidge had replied with with a somewhat sheepish shrug. But it was their best bet, it wasn’t like Lance could spray paint his body purple.

(“ _I read all about it, it’s perfectly safe” Pidge had said, “It was for half-Alteans who couldn’t shape shift right, but still wanted to do whatever Alteans do when they shapeshift.” “Yeah, you seem_ real _knowledgeable.” Lance had grimaced, “But I’m not even half-Altean…”)_

“I guess I get to be Cinderella for month, right Blue?”

Blue thrums in a way that Lance figures is supposed to be reassuring. Without another thought, he plunges the needle into his neck and pushes down on the plunger.

It occurs to Lance that he forgot to disinfect the spot, “Oh, quiznack.” The last thing he thinks about before he passes out is Shiro’s voice; “Language, Lance!”

And then darkness.

* * *

“Are going to tell Keith what happened, Pidge? Because I think you should tell him what happened.”

“What happened?” insisted Keith, impatient. Hunk’s nervousness was not helping him. “Where’s Lance?”

“That depends on if he caves my skull with that book...granted, I spent hours translating so I guess it’s not an awful way to go all things considered…”

“Tell me what?” Keith asked again, softer now as he realized he had been holding the book like he was about to club someone with it and steal their wallet.

“That Lance is…”

“That’s the Red Paladin for you! Always ready to jump into action!” Coran interrupted, miming a few punches and kicks.

“Well I won’t be the Red Paladin for much longer if we don’t find Shiro.” Keith deadpanned. Coran’s face fell and Keith instantly regretted his words.

“Everyone calm down. We must get all the details before we jump to any conclusions.” Allura’s face was pinched in exhaustion.

Pidge let out a sigh. “Lance is missing.”

Keith made a move to talk, and Hunk immediately covered his mouth with his larger hand.  Keith looked over indignantly and noticed that Hunk is also covering his own mouth with his own hand.  He decided it was better not to say anything until Pidge finished speaking, more for Hunk’s sake than his own.

 “He went out for a ride with his Lion yesterday --I was giving Kitty some upgrades, so I was right by the comms…” Pidge shivers, “He started yelling for back up and then -everything- his signal, his voice, just disappeared.” She looked over to Keith helplessly.

Keith shrugged Hunk’s hand off his mouth. “So another Paladin goes missing and we’re just standing here?” He growls angrily. To everyone’s surprise it was  Hunk who responded.

“Look man, I miss Lance too, I miss Shiro! But with all of us disappearing, we can’t just go rushing into things or we’ll all be missing.”

Keith looks towards Allura and Coran and his heart fell as he saw Allura’s lips in a thin line of resolute agreement. She reached forward and held Keith’s shoulder with her hand, clasping tightly.

“I promise you Keith we are going to do _everything_ to set things right again. But we _must_  proceed with caution.”

Keith dropped his head to stare at his combat boots. They had been gifts from Shiro two years prior, Shiro had been the only one who had ever brought him gifts until he joined Voltron. Now he got poetry books that Pidge found, Cookies from Hunk, and knick-knacks from Lance.

Every time they went to a different planet, Lance seemed to run into various shiny things like some sort of crazed mole. Lance (who insisted that Keith needed to unleash his inner decorator and do more to his room) had so far given Keith  a slightly luminous rock, a strange stuffed animal that looked like a mix between and woolly mammoth and octopus, a very smooth branch, and a large poster of Zarkon that Lance had irreverently drawn a mustache on. Keith had always joked he was just going to throw it all away, but the poster was on his wall chockful of darts (another gift from Lance), the stone and stick on his bedside table, and the stuffed animal always got the best and _highest_ part of Keith’s pillow. Lance had jokingly named the toy “Snuffles” before ceremoniously baptizing it with food goo and handing it reverently to Keith.  To Keith, Lance’s gifts and Keith’s placement of them had always been a symbol of his and Lance’s respect for each other (despite their bickering). Unable to stop himself, Keith wished he had opened his door the night before and shown Lance.

“Okay.” Agreed Keith finally, he looked up to stare Allura straight in the eyes. “But one week. If you all don’t have any answers by then, then I’m leaving and I’m bringing them _both_ back home.”

For the next week, Keith will just do three things: Practice, eat, and stare at Snuffles with his food goo stained forehead and perched on his tall throne of pillows. He doesn’t cry.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Can we just talk about Pidge's and Keith's relationship a bit? Because it is almost always shamefully underdeveloped. You've got this "mind over matter" personality versus a "shoot first ask questions later" persona and I think they clash and complement each other in the most interesting way. Note how in S1 Keith uses that line to appeal to Pidge's logical side, which was a smart move even if it didn't work. That was tactical decision on Keith's side, but I think (as evidenced in this chapter) it would not work if Pidge tried to use it to reason with Keith because he just is not driven by logic even if he uses to it to inform his decisions sometimes.
> 
> tldr; Keith and Pidge are 100% bffs that butt heads all the time
> 
> Next update should be up Tuesday with bigger focus on Lance's infiltration now we've got everything else out of the way! Thank you for all those who commented - keep letting me know what you think so I can keep getting better for you all! Also: would you prefer longer chapters and less updates or the other way around? I personally prefer the prior.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance comed to terms with some parts of his profession.

“So Pidge…”

Pidge looked up from her typing over towards Lance, who was sitting upside down and slowly bicycling his legs. She sighed. “Yes, Lance?”

“I was thinking about something I’d like you to add to my data file before you upload it to the Galra database.”

“Uh-huh. What is it this time?”

“My occupation.”

This gave Pidge a pause, the past few additions on his part had been normal Lance things like, “add cat herder to my background!” or “make my middle name, ‘Wolverine!’” An occupation on the battleship was a good idea, and Pidge had not even stopped to think there might be a hierarchal structure on a Galra base and warship. Despite his most recent stroke of observance, Pidge prepared herself for an inevitably silly addition.

“I want you to assign me to manual work in the base. Maybe Guard duty sometimes.”

“Like a janitor?” Exclaimed Pidge in disbelief. Then recognition dawned slowly onto her face. “Because no one will care what you hear or see...”

“...And no one will care where I go. _Exactamundo chica._ ” He sat up straight to ruffle Pidge’s hair. “When did you get so smart?”

Pidge smacked his hand away good naturedly, “When you were still trying to figure out how to use the toilet.”

Lance mimed being shot. “Ouch, My beloved Pigeon, you wound me!”

“Thank God, I’ve been trying all these months.” She responded drily a ghost of a smile playing on the edges of her lips. “Granted, we’ve still gotta figure out how to kill you tomorrow.”

Lance winced and the mood sobered almost immediately.  He looked closely at his fingers tangling and untangling them nervously, “You know, I was actually thinking about that. Why do we actually have to…”

“The more people who know you’re alive and what you’re doing the more danger you’ll be in.” Interrupted Pidge her eyes as hard as flint. “If someone gets captured...you know what they did to Shiro,” her voice cracked, “It doesn’t matter how strong any of us are. I won’t risk leaking your whereabouts if we get captured.”

“But Blue isn’t going to let me…”

“With one Paladin dead and one Lion destroyed, Voltron is going to be having a tough month. As long as no one knows about Shiro we’re fine.” There was an edge to finality to her voice that seemed to warn Lance not to argue. “Now put your hand on this pad I need to sync your hand pressure to the electronics we’re putting on your arms so you can open doors…”

 

* * *

 

Lance wonders if transformations are this painful Alteans as he unsticks himself from the floor. It feels as if his body had been submerged in boiling water and; red and raw. He can feel Blue’s concern pushing at him desperately at the edge of his consciousness. “Hey girl,” he rasps and her relief floods through his mind.

 Very slowly he raises a hand to his face clenching and unclenching it slowly, his eyes wide with disbelief.

 Purple.

 Keith would be _so_ jealous.

 Lance does not have time to gloat. From the moment the vial had touched his lips, he had a month to figure out the Galra strategy and Shiro’s whereabouts. It was time to get to work.

 

* * *

 

The Galra soldier’s name is Uyyrac. He was named after his father who had died a few days before he was born, this was just fine by Uyyrac’s mother as she hadn’t liked him much in the first place. To be honest, Uyyrac didn’t think she liked him all that much either, but that didn’t bother him to much. Uyyrac had been conscripted into the Galra army at an early age, so he didn’t remember her much anyways.

Today is a pretty good day for Uyyrac. Sure, it’s freezing on this planet and in the last last month he’s been here, he’s managed to lose two fingers to frostbite, but all in all it isn’t too bad.  Uyyrac is supposed to be flying around and scouting out some new land, but quite frankly he didn’t _feel_ like doing that, and so, he had managed to convinced some new private to go in his place. He didn’t tell the newbie that the fuselage was leaking, but he hopes he’s okay...and if not, he supposes it doesn’t matter too much anyways. Mistakes were deadly in the Galra army, so usually the best way to go is to push your mistakes onto someone else.

 He is not expecting to see a bedraggled stranger crawling out of the sea before him. He lifts his gun quickly and clears his throat, “Hey...er...identify yourself! That isn’t armor from our battalion”

 “It’s not?” The Galran pauses, surprise flitting across his face, “ID-566789D,” he pauses, “Identify _yourself._ Are _you_ supposed to be here? _”_ Asks the stranger haughtily.

 “Uyyrac…” Uyyrac pauses because _no_ he isn’t supposed to be here, and his jaw drops. “L-look sir, I just needed a little break” he stutters.

 An emotion that Uyyrac can’t place seems to gather in stranger’s countenance and he stands up straighter. “I thought not. Drop your weapon.” Uyyrac drops it immediately.

 “Look I’ll give you whatever you want, GAC...um…” he hasn’t got anything else to offer. The stranger walks closer and Uyyrac suddenly realizes what it was that he saw on his face earlier. _Victory._ Up close, Uyyrac realizes that the newcomer isn’t wearing any sort of armor he’s familiar with.  His breath quickens and he scrabbles for his gun, “You aren’t part of this expedition at all...” he starts, growling.

“Right-o dude.”

 The stranger brings down something hard on Uyyrac’s head and the last thing he sees is the water crashing upon the ice in front of him.

All of Lance’s air escapes him in one gasp and he sinks to his knees before the unconscious soldier before him and in the air floats one single question, “What do I do now?” The limp body in front of Lance does not leave him with too many options and now that no one is watching he is shivering with cold. Fur only does so much it seems. He doesn’t know who Pidge got the DNA for the formula from, but obviously they are very fluffy indeed.

 But first things first.  Very carefully he pries the armor off of the limp body, Lance still isn’t used to his own Galra body and cuts his lip on his teeth multiple times during the process. Lance bit his lip when he was worried or stressed, but it seemed that for the next month he was going to have to break that habit unless he wanted a mouthful of blood constantly.

 Groaning he strips down to just his black undersuit and throws the diving gear into the water behind him. He’d have to cross that bridge later. Quickly he shrugs on the Galran armor and is pleased to find that it is much better insulated than it looks.

 This still leaves the question: what does he do with the body?

 Of course, Lance knows perfectly well what he’s supposed to do with the body, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t going to look for any other way. Lance isn’t a killer, sure he’s killed, but he isn’t a killer. Lance had perhaps shrugged off the luxury of freeing various civilizations from the comfort of a mechanical-lion-spaceship. Even in hand-to-hand combat, Lance is sniper. He did not have to watch the other soldiers die knowing it was _his_ fault. But here on the open tundra and wind swirling  around him, there was no other way to look at it. Lance McClain was going to murder an unconscious _person_ and he’s going to have to watch him die.

 This time, when Lance bites his lip he doesn’t are how much it hurts or bleeds. He places the soldier’s gun against the the side of the soldier’s face and pulls the trigger.

 After Lance dumps the body into the water, the snow has already covered up the trail of blood and clumps of brain tissue.

 

* * *

 

Hunk and Pidge spend a lot of time working next to each other in silence, a fact that Pidge is grateful for. It takes a long time to find a relationship where silence is comfortable, but it was automatic with Hunk. Often times they would switch projects wordlessly; Pidge would take a look at whatever contraption Hunk was working on and Hunk would take a look at Pidge’s software sometimes passing tools and notes between them before switching back to their projects.

Hunk had never treated Pidge like a child, and Pidge had never treated Hunk like any less of the genius he was.  Hunk could do things in physical repairs that Pidge could only dream of.

Today is different though, there’s the smallest disruption in that natural rhythm and pidge knows exactly why.

“Do you know what Shiro’s favorite food was...is?” Asks Hunk finally giving up on the illusion of working.

“Creme puffs,” she replies almost automatically, “Matt told me once.”

“Creme puffs?” Hunk chuckles. “Tell me why I’m not surprised?”

“Because _he’s_ a huge creme puff?” Pidge smiles and walks over to flop over the back of Hunk’s chair and naturally, Hunk as well. “Remember that time Lance wasn’t around so you offered him first taste test of those awful pancake imposters?”

“Oh geez, yes.”

“And he said they were the best things he’s ever eaten, but later when I tried them they tasted like wet dog?”

Hunk hums in response. “If he could have, I bet he would have pinned them to the fridge with magnets.”

“That’s our Space Dad.”

“That’s our Space Dad...” echos Hunk and the silence between them seems cavernous.

 

* * *

 

“Janitorial work?”

“Janitorial work.”

“Woah, you must be _really_ bad,” The other soldier  says almost reverently.

Lance shrugs, “What can I say? I’m a lover not a fighter.”

The Galran’s eyes are bright with admiration, “You’re a funny guy. I like you.” Lance wonders (thinking of Keith) if the Galra are just the bluntest species in the universe or he had just managed to bump into the few who seemed to be unable to keep their judgements to themselves. Lance had navigated to the base using Uyracc’s speeder and waited hidden under piles of snow for a few hours. Pidge had made sure to give him a schedule of arriving ships for the next week and he had managed to get there in time for the last ship of the day, no thanks to Uyyrac.  

Now having snuck into the line of new recruits Lance finds himself face-to-face with a soldier even _he_ would call overly friendly as he is guided through the labyrinth of halls in the base. The Galran’s name is Vranx, something that Lance prays he never has to say because he still hasn’t figured out how to make the “nx” part at the end sound right.

“What’s your name anyways?”

“Uyyrac,” responds Lance quickly, hoping there’s enough soldiers on board that Vranx won’t recognize it.

“That makes sense. I should have pegged you for a hyperborean in the first place.” Vrax gestures towards his own face, helmet casually held tight against his hip. His purple skin barely has any hair at all except around the ears. “I’m an arid myself, rotten luck getting sent over here.”

Lance, who has no idea what Vranx is talking about, makes a sympathetic hum in response.

“You know Uyyrac, if Golia still existed we might never have met.” He throws a companionable arm around Lance’s shoulder, “But here we are!”

“Yeah…” Lance sheepishly pats the Vrax’s shoulder and wonders (a) if this is normal behavior and (b) whether history books are a thing that exist on Galra army bases. “Perks of being part of an intergalactic empire, right buddy? Vrepit Sah, am I right?”

Vrax laughs loudly and pats Lance on the back. Lance almost falls over from the force of it. “Vrepit Sah. I have a feeling you’re going to fit _right_ in here, Uyyrac.” They pause at a fork in the hallway. Vrax points to a large door to the left. “So first things first: don’t go in there,” his voice is suddenly serious, “You seem like the guy who got up to all types of fun back on training base, but trust me Uyyrac, you go down that hallway and it’s game over.”

Lance makes a mental note to go down that hallway as soon as he possibly can.

“Second,” Vrax’s voice brings him back to reality, “Down this hallway is everything you need...training, assignment center, bunks, grub…” he pauses, “I’m forgetting something….”

Lance interrupts him before he goes on, “Why not show me where you keep prisoners...you know, in case I get guard duty?” He suggests it with a bright smile, acknowledging that he has zero idea of they actually keep prisoners here.

Vrax’s face lights up and without another words he starts walking quickly in the opposite direction while Lance jogs behind him trying to keep up. “Now, Uyyrac, you may not know this but we have one of this biggest prisons in the Galra Empire…”

Very slowly, Lance reaches into his pocket to pull out one of Pidge’s cubes and flicks it on, it glows warm in his hand once before disappearing entirely. The weight of the cube in his hand is reassuring as he and Vrax speed through the halls. Vrax had been right, Lance loved sneaking around to places he wasn’t supposed to be. So as they make countless turns in the labyrinth of the stronghold Lance is doing his best to commit it to his muscle memory. He is sure that Vrax must use the paths that are the quickest to the area by his familiarity, not necessarily sanctioned routes. Lance would have to remember this route if everything he and Pidge planned worked out.

“...And sometimes the Druids are here, so don’t get in their way…”

“The Druids?” Lance stiffins.

“Yeah, they’re doing some sort of experiments on subject JJ-12...oh! We’re here!” Vrax smiles warmly, which given all his teeth is not reassuring in the least. He makes a wide gesture towards the bars and doors in the hallway, “It’s all yours.”

In the distance Lance can see droids striding back and forth along the hall. He moves to walk forward and falls roughly with a clatters, on the ground he shoves the cube into an alcove by the first cell, covering the scraping noise with a deep groan.

“Uyyrac! Woah! You weren’t kidding when you said you were bad…”

But Lance is numb towards all of Vrax’s administration because through the small slot in the doors he sees a familiar pair of eyes staring out at him, terrified.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I spent way too much time thinking about whether it's "creme puffs" or "cream puffs." Apparently both are right, and cream is just the anglicized of the French "creme." Fun facts, get 'em here.
> 
> In any case, your girl is going on vacation for a week, so next update will either be next Tuesday or the Tuesday after that. If it's two weeks from now I'll be sure to make it extra long. In the meantime, I do hope you liked this chapter! I'm always looking forward to improve, so feedback is always appreciated.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lance doesn’t think, he just acts. The alien’s body is warm and surprisingly human as he presses them to the ground. As he prepares to feel the capsule pierce his armor, all he is thinking about is Coran on Arus and how he had succeeded. “Is this all that I’m good for? A meat shield?” The thought is unbidden, a maggot working its way through dead and soft tissue.
> 
> But the pain never comes. As the alien shoves him off her, Lance turns to see a tall and slender form in front of the two of them, thin rapier glinting in the light, not a hair out of place.
> 
> Lance decides immediately he doesn’t like the guy.

Lance remembers when the Kerberos mission first set off. He remembers seeing the three, Shiro, Matt, and Sam Holt, coming one day to the Garrison. It had not been an expected visit, but Iverson had been all smiles that whole week constantly alluding to a “surprise” at the end of the week. Like all students at the garrison, Lance was rather cautious when (a) Iverson smiled and (b) “surprises” at the Garrison in general.

Surprise, you get to run 10 miles!

Surprise, you’ll be cleaning up manure at nearby farms!

Surprise, flu shots for everyone!

Surprise!

But this, this gathering it _had_ been a good surprise because Takashi Shirogane, Lance’s hero, was standing on that stage smiling at _him._ In his mind, it made sense that he hadn’t paid too much attention to the Holts who both stood on either side of the pilot. He used this as a defense as to why he hadn’t realized Pidge Gunderson was Katie Holt, he very simply had been so overwrought by the presence of Shiro that the faces of the other crewmates were blurred in his mind’s eye. The past few months though, Lance had become familiar with the planes of Pidge’s face and the mischievous glint of her eyes.

So, when Lance first sees those eyes staring at him from beyond the slit in the door he thinks that Pidge was captured.  Upon closer inspection though he realizes that there are wrinkles in the corners and the eyes are somewhat darker than Pidge’s own…

“Sam Holt,” he breathes without thinking.

Vranx is still hovering, his face concerned, around Lance like some sort of nervous hummingbird. “Uyyrac? Uyyrac?”

Lance sits up, puzzled. “I-I’m okay...just never seen a human before.”

Vranx releases a deep sigh. “Oh, yeah...we got this one a while ago. Super ugly right?”

Lance bites his tongue. “Yep.  Their ears...they’re hideous!”

“I know right?” Vranx offers Lance a hand and pulls him up to his feet. He pats Lance’s shoulder roughly almost sending Lance buckling forward again. “How about I bring you back to the bunks, huh? Get some sleep before tomorrow?”

Lance blinks blankly. “Tomorrow?”

Vranx stares back, cocking an eyebrow, “You know... _tomorrow_ when the Prince comes and visits?”

“The Prince? Which…?”

“Yeah, _Prince Lotor._ The ONLY prince.” Vranx shakes his head and something flashes across his face, he opens his mouth as if to elaborate but Lance cuts him off.

“Ohhh right. I thought that was _next_ week. Well you know how it is dude, traveling from different stations.” He makes a swirling gesture with his hands. “You’d have to be genius to keep it all straight.”

Vranx looks confused but then nods quickly to save face. He has decided that he doesn’t want to look stupid in front of this newcomer who just seemed, for lack of a better term, _cool._ So naturally, Vranx takes it upon himself to set Uyyrac with a dormer by the kitchen (a prime spot), show him the _best_ broom closets in the fort, and wake him up at an ungodly hour the next morning because he doesn’t want his new friend to be late for the ceremony. Vranx discovers at this point that Uyyrac is obviously a morning person, and he is surprised to find the other soldier typing something up quickly on some sort of device.

“AHHH!” Lance shrieks as he catches Vranx peering over the tip of his bed and slams his portable shut. Pidge would understand if he didn’t reply to her last message (“ _mothman is real and you’re just jealous_ ”).

Vranx cocks his head. “Uyyrac, are you alright? It is nearly time to go down to the parade grounds.”

“Geez buddy, you surprised me.”

Vranx shrugs unapologetically and gestures for Lance to follow him.

Lance hops down from the dormer and tugs on his boots. “Lead the way, man.” He has a good spatial memory, but even now, the pathways of the fort are dizzyingly long and complicated. He decides he will have to spend extra time learning them, but armed with a mop and broom, Lance is sure it’s a conquerable task.

 _“The only reason Pidge chose you to go is because you’re replaceable.”_ Lance pushes the thought away as he and Vranx arrive outside, both blinking away the sun. For the first time, Lance realizes how it’s possible to be sunburnt in the winter. Despite his mood, Lance feels invigorated though. This morning he had felt tired and dirty without his usual skincare routine but the crisp winter air cooled his face and the few snowflakes scattering in the wind soaked up and washed off the oils on his skin.

Then Lance notices the others who are gathered outside the ship. In all the months fighting the Galra, it was difficult to truly appreciate how big the armies were, but here, surrounded by thousands of soldiers and even what looked like families he realized something: Voltron’s work was nowhere close to being done, if that was even possible. Did the soldiers in the fort truly believe in Zarkon? Or could they be convinced to integrate with other cultures and join the alliance?

Lance didn’t have very long to think about it, because he suddenly feels Vranx tugging at his sleeve and tugging him to the side.  Lance is once again amazed by the other soldier’s abilities in preventing Lance from embarrassing himself and makes a note that perhaps there is hope to be had.

Somewhere in the distance, Lance hears a command and everyone freezes before taking up a salute. Lance looks towards Vranx, his new guardian angel.

Vranx is in a stiff salute but looks over to Lance and mouths, “What are you doing?”

“Saluting?” Whispers Lance through his teeth.

Vranx is still committed to not speaking and is seemingly overestimating Lance’s abilities in lipreading. “Wrong hand.”

“What?” whispers Lance.

Vranx mimes something.

“They’re going to cut off our hands???”

Vranx shakes his head and gestures again, Lance finally catches on. Before he can do anything though, the Prince’s escort is already upon them: three cloaked alien women who are all so tall, Lance can barely see whoever is in the center of the group.

Behind Vranx’s shoulder Lance sees someone draw a gun.

Lance doesn’t think, he just acts. The alien’s body is warm and surprisingly _human_  as he presses them to the ground. As he prepares to feel the capsule pierce his armor, all he is thinking about is Coran on Arus and how he _had_ succeeded. _“Is this all that I’m good for? A meat shield?”_ The thought is unbidden, a maggot working its way through dead and soft tissue.

But the pain never comes. As the alien shoves him off her, Lance turns to see a tall and slender form in front of the two of them, thin rapier glinting in the light, not a hair out of place.

Lance decides immediately he doesn’t like the guy.

The tall alien he just tackled is up now, her face unreadable, offering Lance a hand. He hesitates for a second and she shakes her hand insistently in front of his face. He takes it and the alien lifts him to his feet with surprising strength.

“You saved me. Why?”

“Uh well...it just seemed like a good idea at the time y’know?”

“At the time?” She raises a brow, “That’s a very illogical...”

“Now, now, Acxa, that is _no_ way to talk to our knight in shining army.” The long-haired Galra nods his head towards Lance. “Prince Lotor. Pleasure.”

Lance gapes and if it wasn’t for the woman - Acxa- nudging him hard in the ribs Lance would have stayed like that for a lot longer. “P-Prince Lotor!” Lance dives into a deep bow. “The pleasure is all mine?”

It occurs to Lance that everyone, including the others in Prince Lotor’s party are all staring at him.

Acxa nudges him again, hard. “Say your name soldier.” She hisses from behind gritted teeth.

“I’m Uyyrac...I’m new here?” Somewhere beyond Lotor’s shoulder, Lance can see Vranx facepalming and covering his eyes. _Thanks for the support buddy._

Prince Lotor is smiling, one hand on his chin thoughtfully.  “I think that you will accompany us inside to our quarters. I would very much like to speak to you more Uyyrac.” Lotor snaps his fingers and the procession resumes, this time with Lance trailing directly behind one of the generals. He looks back over his shoulder, eyes searching the crowd for Vranx.

“ _What do I do?”_ He mouths.

Vranx makes a brushing gesture with his hands and mouths back, _“Go, go!”_

And so, to Lance’s great surprise, he finds himself entering one of the most guarded areas of the fort. He uses the falling trick to place another Rover 2.0 and no one seems to notice.

* * *

 

“This is Acxa, of course you two are already acquainted” Lotor is sitting on a chair nearby and points towards the alien that Lance had tackled earlier.  She gives a stiff nod.

“Ezor,” He gestures again to a bright alien who winks at Lance conspiratorially. Lance feels the heat rise to his cheeks. In any other circumstance he’d be right by her side, but both Allura and Nyma had taught him very well that Alien women were, at best, terrifying.

“And of course, Zethrid.” The final general dwarfs the rest of them and Lance has the feeling that should she ever meet Allura, she might be the only being in the universe that stood a chance of winning against Allura’s arm-wrestling skills.

In short, Lance does not understand why any of the figures in the room might need him. He opens his mouth to say as much before Lotor cuts in.

“Naarti is our final team member but she currently is finishing some…” Lotor pauses for just a moment, “Business in another system. She’ll be here by the end of the week.” For a moment he looks thoughtful, “I actually think you two would get along quite well, Uyyrac.”

“Er, yep!” Lance shifts on his feet, uncomfortable. “That’s me! Getting along with everyone!”

Ezor giggles and Lotor raises a brow. “You’d like to know why you’re here?”

“Is it that obvious?” Quips Lance in reply.

“What did you see today Uyyrac?"

“Well...I guess I saw some psycho try to shoot the bodyguard of the heir to the Galra Empire.”

Acxa bristles. “I am more than a bodyguard.”

Lotor raises a hand, “Be calm, Acxa, the old empire is not yet fully aware of our government’s new structure.”  He turns to Lance and the smile on his face still has not faded. “The people before you are all part of my elite squad. My generals if you will.” He nods to each of the others in turn. “What you saw earlier was an attempted assassination. Treachery.”

Lance nods. “So lemme guess: somebody isn’t too happy that you’re taking over from Zarkon.”

Lotor looks over to his generals, “What did I tell you all? I think we will find Uyyrac to be quite the perceptive one.” He stands, hands grasped tightly behind his back as he walks over, Lance is again reminded just how _tall_ the Galra are, even Galra hybrids. He absently wonders if Keith is going to be undergoing a growth spurt soon. “What do you do here Uyyrac?”

Lance is taken aback. “As I said, I’m new here.”

“So you came here just for a vacation? What interesting taste you have.”

“Well, no. I came here to clean and guard.”

“Just a cleaner and guard?” There’s something in Lotor’s voice that Lance can’t quite place.

“I’m not very good at fighting, y’know?”

Lotor hums and walks across the room. Lance slumps slightly and sighs in relief.

Then without warning Lotor turns around and throws _something_ at Lance. Lance catches it. Something sharp slices through the palm of his hand and warmth leaks from around his fingers onto the cool metal of sword clutched in his palm. Blood drips silently to the metallic floor.

“Your reflexes would be wasted on the broom closets, my friend. ”

As he walks closer Lance notices something dripping off of Lotor’s hand as well. He feels a heavy hand on his shoulder, and he jumps, only to see Zethrid smiling toothily. Lance finds himself both attracted and terrified.

“Don’t worry Uyyrac, we know you aren’t full Galra. But we won’t tell.” Ezor nods encouragingly.

“Uyyrac,” Lance stares at the Prince’s bleeding hand. “We want you to join us as we recreate this  cruel empire into something that serves the most important person: our subjects.” Slowly, Lotor reaches his hand towards Lance.

Thoughts whirl through Lance’s head at astonishing speeds and there is the uncomfortable feeling of floating -but that could be the blood loss. “ _If this is what it takes to save Shiro and the Holts…”_

Acxa gently takes the sword from his hand and all of a sudden Lance’s hand is engulfed by the warmth of Lotor’s, heat blossoming between the pads of his fingers at the touch of Galran blood. Lotor holds his gaze and Lance does not blink.

After what seemed like decades, Lotor finally releases Lance’s hand. Their blood is so commingled that can’t tell what is his and what is Prince Lotor’s.

* * *

 

There’s an unofficial sport aboard the castle called “Find Pidge’s Unconscious Body and Put It In A Bed.”  Shiro is winning with ten PidgeFinds, Hunk close behind at eight PidgeFinds, Coran at five, and Keith and Lance tied at four each. Allura was at one, but only because of the mice, which Keith considered to be cheating. On this particular day however, Hunk and Keith had managed to locate Pidge together and Keith was once again struck by how young their smallest Paladin was.

Watching as Hunk carries her back to her room, Keith looks around at the small broom closet expectantly, though to be honest, he isn’t quite sure what he _is_ even expecting. A new robot? Some data that Pidge has been studying that could bring them closer to finding Shiro and Lance?

Keith slumps against the wall and slides down to the floor, his head resting upon his knees. For a few moments, all he can hear is his slow breathing and the blood rushing through his heart. Something vibrates by his foot. Keith blinks.

 **_L:_ ** _Pidge? R u there?_

Hundreds of emotions flood through Keith, the least of which is anger. Relief however, overpowers his anger towards Pidge because as he scrolls through the history of the conversation, all of the responses are unmistakably _Lance McClain._ Keith’s brow furrows as he tries to think of how Pidge would respond.

 **_P:_ ** _Duh._

 **_L:_ ** _wow, don’t get 2 excited my petite pigeonette_

 **_P:_ ** _I’ll be more excited when you stop being so stupid._

 **_L:_ ** _whatevs. i’ve got big news._

 **_P:_ ** _Coolio. Report soldier._

 **_L:_ ** _did u just say “coolio”?_

 

Keith panics for a moment. Would it give him away? Keith didn’t think he ever said that face-to-face to Lance. The device vibrates again.

 

 **_L:_ ** _nvm, i don’t care about ur nerd werds._

 **_L:_ ** _here’s the thing: zarkon’s got a heir, name’s prince lotor._

 **_L:_ ** _ask coran about him?_

 **_L:_ ** _he’s got these 4 gorgeous ladieeez, but they are scarier than allura_

 **_L:_ ** _anyways, they liked me? So now i’m their spy 2, so that’s a little awkward_

 **_L:_ ** _but all the rover 2.0s are placed_

 **_P:_ ** _Hold up. What? You’re THEIR spy? Wtf Lance?_

 **_L:_ ** _wat was i supposed to say? “Oh sorry guys, already spying for someone else?”_

 **_L:_ ** _the point is, this makes it like 10x easier to find out their strategy, grab ur dad, and skedaddle._

 

 **_P:_ ** _Okay. But I’m sending Keith over too._

Before Lance can respond, Keith sets down the communicator gently and purposefully walks towards the hanger. He had about one hour before Pidge woke up and read the messages.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Annnd we're back. Sorry for the wait loves <3


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Okay. So. Mr. Holt, why is it Pidge? She won’t tell me and Hunk and I know that there has to be a reason...like, what kind of name is Pidge anyways?”
> 
> “A pigeon pooped on her. Matt gave her the name.”
> 
> Despite circumstances, Lance has to struggle to hold in his laughter.

_“When we revolt it’s not for a particular culture. We revolt simply because, for many reasons, we can no longer breathe” - Franz Fanon, Wretched of the Earth_

“Hunk. Hunk, HUNK.”

Hunk rolls over onto the ground with a loud thump. He looks up at his tormentor.

“G’morning Pidge.” He grumbles running his eyes. “Are you hungry? Because I can make breakfast…”

“After you dropped me off in my dorm yesterday, what did Keith do?”

“Um…” Hunk’s brows furrow. He didn’t actually pay too much attention to the Red Paladin after the two of them had found Pidge. “I guess he was cleaning up your papers and everything…”

Pidge curses in Altean. Or at least Hunk thinks she does because she’s quite angry and the words coming out of her mouth are unrecognizable.

Pidge sinks to the ground and rests her forehead on her knees. “Hunk. I’ve made a mistake. There’s something I need to tell you.”

Hunk blinks a few times before walking over to sit next to the tiny paladin. “I know Lance isn’t actually missing Pidge.”

Pidge gapes. “How?”

Hunk shrugs sheepishly. “You guys are my best friends, I know when something’s up. Besides,” he grins, “Lance gave me one of his goodbye hugs the day he went missing.”

“Curse Lance and his sentimentality!”

Hunk chuckles, then his expression to turns serious. “So is Lance okay?...Is that why…” His eyes already look watery.

“No no no...Lance is doing fine!” Intercepts Pidge, “More than fine actually. He’s flourishing? I mean as much as he can? I dunno.... I knew he’d do well but this scenario never occurred to me. Honestly, I’m not sure how much of it is just sheer, dumb, luck….”

Hunk holds up a hand, Pidge is rambling. “Okay, so what’s the issue then? And how can I help?”

Pidge takes a deep breath. “Keith found out. And...I think he’s gone after him, Hunk.”

Hunk considers this, “Okay that _is_ bad, but I mean, Keith can take care of himself…”

“Everytime we trust Keith with literally anything that requires a even a little diplomacy or subtly he transcends all bounds of normal reason and almost dies.”

“Okay, yeah, it’s possible he might die and get Lance killed.” Hunk sighs and runs his hand through his hair as Pidge seems to have co opted his headband in her distress. “I dunno Pidge we should probably tell Coran or Allura.”

Pidge waves her hands frantically. “Coran? Maybe. Allura definitely not. Then I might die. You’d be the last Paladin, Hunk!”

Hunks hums. “One small leg in a big world.”

Pidge smirks, “Well technically we’re not in any “world” right now --”

Hunk playfully punches her on the shoulder. “Alright, you win Captain Gunderson.” His expression hardens again though. “But Pidge, you have to promise me: no more secrets?”

Pidge looks down at her hands. “You know I can’t make that pro-”

Hunk shakes his head and interrupts. “Look, I know how long you kept every a secret back on earth. But we aren’t in the Garrison anymore,” Hunk gestures to the cabin around them. “We’re in space. Just the seven of us -and five of us literally meld our minds on a daily basis!” His voice is louder now, eyes wide, before adding softly “We’re family Pidge. That means no secrets anymore.”

Pidge grimly pushes Hunks hand off her shoulder. “Well, that’s not what family means to me.”

Her eyes briefly catch Hunk’s hurt look and turns around roughly before she can see anything more. The silence stretches on between the two of them. It’s odd, Pidge realizes, in the past days, she’s become used to picking fights with Keith. But Hunk’s anger is different. There’s something cold about it, as if the sun had suddenly stopped shining day.

“Then what does family mean to you Pidge?” Hunk’s voice catches, “Do you even think about us...like we’re family?”

Pidge knows all of Hunks weaknesses, just as she does with all the Paladins. But Hunk is different. They make up one half of a giant robot cat, they design numerous useless and useful tools together, they fought together, and if Pidge was being honest, she was sure they’d die together too.

She knew what words would tear at that relationship as easily as sword through flesh.

Hunk’s hand is on her shoulder again, warm and hard. “Stop overthinking this Pidge. Just tell me.”

Pidge thinks of Matt, forced to fight on strange planets with aliens he barely knows. She thinks of her father, shivering in a cell on some frozen planet. Of her mother who all of them had left behind. “I...don’t know.” The words slip from her lips without her realizing.

Hunk’s face cracks. “You...don’t know.” He repeats dully.

Pidge regrets her words almost immediately. “No, Hunk, you know that’s not what I meant, you-”

Hunk cuts her off, “No, no. I’m not stupid Pidge, and I thought that out of everyone on this ship you’d be the one who knows that.”

Pidge grabs at his arm as he stands up, “Hunk wait-”

“I need my headband Pidge so I can start breakfast for everyone.”

Pidge looks at the yellow fabric she’s been clasping in her hands and back to Hunk and somehow as she hands it back to him, it’s that which cuts her the deepest.

Without him, the room seems hollow and empty. Pidge sits for a few more minutes.

* * *

News that Keith is coming hits Lance like a cannonball to the chest. Because of course Keith would be the one to rush over without thinking. Of course Keith wouldn’t even think to ask if Lance had it all under control before risking his own life. With his face and…

Lance had known he was in love for a long time. He was loud and obnoxious and rarely spent time on his own, but he knew himself. He knew what it meant when it felt as if there was some glowing light in his stomach threatening to unbalance him, what buckling legs meant and fluttering heartbeats. But for all his flirtation, heaven knew, he would never act on it. Sometimes he wondered before going on dangerous missions the words rushing through his head (Should I tell him? Should I tell him? Should I tell him?) He was so worried that the words might escape from his mouth through his teeth like a swarm of bees. He had almost written it on his letter to Keith, but it had come to symbolize a surrender on his part. Telling Keith of his feelings became an acknowledgment of the danger he was in, and Lance was unwilling to make that jump. So it wasn’t fear of rejection, Lance decided, but fear of death.

Confessing feelings = Death...admitting to possible death?

It was a good motivator, but as Lance was sent sprawling to the ground he wasn’t sure if it was the time or place to be thinking about it.

Ezor offers him a hand as Lance looks up balefully from the ground.

“I don’t know if you know this,” She pulls him up effortlessly to his feet, “But you aren’t the best at close-combat.” She says it with a smile and her hand is warm in his.

“Thanks.” He says, Ezor laughs and aims another kick at his stomach. Lance dodges quickly to the left. He aims a punch and his breath buffets out of his chest as she grabs his wrist and throws him on the ground again. He doesn’t make a move to get up and Ezor flops down next to him.

“It’s not that you’re bad...I’m just really good.”

Lance laughs and flips over to his stomach, resting his chin on his hands. “Or both,” he adds wryly.

Ezor laughs, “Or both,” her brows furrow, “But...hm, it’s not like you’re bad at close combat, it’s just you seem to not want to--…”

“Nope,” Lance pops the ‘p’ as he interrupts, “What can I say? I’m a long distance sharpshooter kinda guy. No ifs ands or buts.”

Ezor sends him a dubious looks. “I’m just saying Uyyrac, maybe you’re just like, limiting yourself, y’know?

“Look: everyone has their thing.”

“Their thing?’

“Yeah, you know, like their _thing_.” Lance clears his throat. “Like Zethrid, what’s she really good at?”

Ezor looks thoughtful and rests her chin on her hands, “Well, she’s really strong for one --”

“See? That’s it!” He interjects. “That’s Zethrid’s thing.”

The alien’s lips purse together and she sends Lance a look that is unreadable. “But she’s good at a lot of thing, not just being strong...she’s good with mechanics -”

Lance shakes his head and cuts her off. “It doesn’t matter that she can do other things,” he pauses realizing how that sounds, “I mean, it does matter...but within the group. That’s what they offer that no one else can.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being second best Uyyrac,” her voice is tentative.

Lance shifts and sits up, “Well...there is for me.” He’s sure not to meet Ezor’s gaze. Next to him she sighs softly and sits cross-legged for a few moments, for a moment it seems as if she’s about to say something and Lance feels her stiffen besides him. “Are you alr--

Ezor’s face is shining, “Narti is back,” she smiles, “It’s been so long. Are you alright by yourself?”

Lance sends her a thumbs up, “You bet girlfriend, un-mopped floors are calling me.”

Ezor laughs and for a moment she rests her hand on Lance’s shoulder, “It was nice fighting with you Uyyrac…” her gaze softens, “You remind me a bit of my younger brother.”

“Well you remind me of my sister,” Lance says it without thinking, blinking wildly as he fully comprehends that he referred to one of Lotor’s generals - aka the axis of evil- as similar to his beloved sister.

Ezor just giggles and winks and when she leaves the training room Lance is left to his own thoughts.

* * *

The floors did indeed need mopping and Lance wonders if the prison planet’s cleaning robots really were programmed correctly. The thought of robots reminds him of Pidge and Lance can feel a pang reverberating through his chest. Sam Holt was alive, and that was great! But every time he thinks about telling Pidge there’s something within him stilling his hand. He thinks about their first few days in the castle when the youngest paladin was ready to leave the team in order to find answers. Pidge was all logic...except when it came to her family. If he were to tell her that Sam Holt was being held prisoner right at the spot she had sent him to…

Everything inside Lance tells him to grab Sam and run, but he keeps mopping, glancing every so often tentatively towards the cell holding the other human. His bayard feels hot as a brand within his armor pressed up against his rib cage.

You mustn’t compromise the mission.

It’s Allura’s voice in his head and he shakes his head vigorously. He had lied to her. He and Pidge, they had lied to everyone, Lance was alone here as anyone could be, for the first time without backup and without friends. Grimacing he sets his mop against the wall next to Sam Holt’s holding cell and takes a deep breath.

“Officer Holt…” Silence, “Officer Holt, I have a message from Katie. Your daughter.”

There’s a stir within the cell, and through the slit in the middle of the door Lance cans ee a familiar pair of eyes. “How do you know my daughter?”

Lance is surprised by the coldness of the voice, he didn’t know much about Officer Holt, but in his mind’s eye he always pictured guy as...well, kind of a nerd, and yet here he is on the outside of a prison feeling vaguely intimidated by someone who’s technically his prisoner. “I…” Lance pauses, “I can’t tell you that sir.”

“Oh? What are you, a spy?”

“Well…” Lance bites his bottom lip and looks at his fingers, “Kind of. Yeah.”

There’s a pause on the other side of the door. “Then you’re right. You can’t tell me.”

Lance sags in relief, “Sir, she’s been looking for you, she’s going to rescue you.”

“That’s my Katie.” Even without seeing him, Lance can sense the pride in his voice. “And Matt?”

Lance shifts uncomfortably. “Still missing...but Pidge, I mean Katie, has got leads.” Silence settles between the two of them again. “Look, Mr. Holt...you don’t have to trust me and --”

“But I do.”

Lance blinks quickly “Wait -- you do?”

“Only a friend of Katie would know her nickname is Pidge,” comes the answer, the voice seems warmer somehow.

He tries to hold in his question...he fails, “Okay. So. Mr. Holt, why is it Pidge? She won’t tell me and Hunk and I _know_ that there has to be a reason...like, what kind of name is Pidge anyways?”

“A pigeon pooped on her. Matt gave her the name.”

Despite circumstances, Lance has to struggle to hold in his laughter.

“How long have you been on the ship?”

Lance counts on his fingers, “Only like 4 days...sleep cycles. I don’t know how long a day is here.” He can almost see Sam Holt sitting cross-legged, thoughtfully swirling the information around his mind, not unlike his daughter. Seeing those eyes, Lance can’t help but be reminded of Pidge.

“And has the Prince arrived yet?”

“Yeah, he --wait, how did you know?”

There’s a smile in the other man’s voice. “It appears that like our kindred, the Galra enjoy gossip.”

Despite the fact that Lance is bunk-buddies with a Galra soldier he had met only days ago and just referred to a high ranking officer as similar to his sister, Lance cannot help but find that difficult to believe. But maybe he still remembers how warm the original Uyyrac’s blood was on his hands, how his yellow eyes widened in horror… it was easier not to think of them like humans. Every nerve in Lance’s body wants to push back at Samuel Holt’s comments, to shake him by the shoulders and remind him who was keeping him in this cell in first place…

But then Ezor’s grinning face fills his mind’s eyes. Lotor grasping his hand, his palm so warm against Lance’s own, his eyes shining with something that Lance could only identify as optimism. He pushes the thought away and kneels to peer through the slat in the door to meet Samuel Holt’s caramel eyes. “Alright Officer Holt, tell me everything you know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ahh sorry this took so long, I am but a humble time-strapped PhD student.
> 
> Thank you for all your comments, they've kept me going <3

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first work ever, so I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter! Of course, tell me your thoughts, I'm still trying to get their individual thoughts and voices down.
> 
> This fic will get progressively darker, as a warning, but think it will probably stay at its current rating. If you're waiting for the Klance (TM), you're gonna love the next chapter.


End file.
